He's still with her. Why am I not surprised? I'm the reason that bastard is still with her. I tried to keep my temper in check as Janine took notice of my dad and me.

"Oh, John, hi," she said. She opened the door more, tugging at the bottom of the shirt she wore. "How are you? And Rachel, wow—nice to see you again." I was glad Dad was oblivious to the reference she was making.

"Janine?" Dad sputtered.

"Sorry. Not dressed." She made a beeline for the kitchen. I saw the look on my dad's face. His was more in shock than outrage like mine had been when I'd first seen Janine with Sherlock. "Has everybody gone? I heard shouting."

"Yes, they're gone."

"God, look at the time. I'll be late." She fumbled around in the kitchen. "Sounded like an argument. Was it Mike?" She turned to us.

"Mike?" Dad and I asked.

"Mike, yeah. His brother, Mike. They're always fighting."

"Mycroft," I squeaked.

"Do people actually call him that?"

"Yeah."

"Huh. Oh, could you be a love and put some coffee on?"

"Sure," Dad spoke for me. "Right, yeah."

"Thanks. Ooh, how's Mary? How's married life?"

"She's fine. We're both fine, yeah." He went to one of the cupboards.

"Oh, it's over there now." Janine pointed in another direction. "So, Rachel, how's your boyfriend?"

"We're doing great," I said with a fake smile.

"He didn't come with you?"

"Nope."

"What a shame. I wish I'd been introduced to him at the wedding. Where's Sherl?"

"He's just having a bath. I'm sure he'll be out in a minute."

"Oh, like he ever is!" Janine flitted down the hall, knocking on the bathroom door.

Dad looked at me with brown owl eyes. I could only shrug in response.

"You're seeing this too, right?" he quizzed me. "It's not just me?"

"You're not seeing things."

"How are you not shocked by this?" he asked.

I went straight into the living room to perch on the couch. "I think a lot has happened already that nothing is shocking me today."

"Come on, Rachel. I know you've seen some things, but this has got to top them all!" Dad plopped a seat on the edge of the coffee table.

I fiddled with the double heart resting on my skin. "I must still be tired from the flight. Sorry if I'm not all bouncy like you are about this development."

We both went quiet once Sherlock came back from his bath. Janine wasn't present, so I assumed she was taking her time to get ready. Now Sherlock looked like he was somewhat normal again, in his normal attire: black pants, white shirt, black jacket—well, he was about to put that on. Still, he wasn't entirely normal, as he was still with Janine, and he and I knew the reason why.

"So," Sherlock started, "it's just a guess, but you've probably got some questions."

"Yeah, one or two, pretty much," Dad said, amused.

"Naturally." Sherlock looked down towards the kitchen—probably looking at Janine—and smiled before he sat in his chair.

"You have a girlfriend?" Dad pressed.

Sherlock looked to him. "Yes, I have. Now, Magnussen. Magnussen is like a shark—it's the only way I can describe him. Have you ever been to the shark tank at the London Aquarium, John—stood up close to the glass? Those floating faces, those dead eyes...

"That's what he is. I've dealt with murderers, psychopaths, terrorists, serial killers. None of them can turn my stomach like Charles Augustus Magnussen."

Sherlock found someone that was worse than Moriarty? I knew Magnussen had looked creepy from what I could remember of him—his eyes in particular—but he hadn't made people into suicide bombers or threatened my dad's life. Magnussen hadn't threatened to come after me.

What made Magnussen more lethal than Moriarty?

"Yes, you have," Dad said.

"Sorry, what?" Sherlock asked.

"You have a girlfriend."

I smacked my forehead.

"What? Yes! Yes, I'm going out with Janine. I thought that was fairly obvious."

"Yes. Well...yes." Dad cleared his throat. "But I mean you—you—you...are in a relationship?"

Sherlock blinked. "Yes, I am."

"You and Janine?"

"Mm, yes. Me and Janine."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Geez, Dad, what do you want from the man? Graphic details?" I shuddered, trying not to picture anything sexual in my head.

Sherlock took in a long breath and exhaled. "Well, we're in a good place. It's, um...very affirming."

"You got that from a book," Dad declared.

"Everyone got that from a book."

Janine came into the picture, dressed in clothes that looked to belong to her. The smile on Sherlock's face made me want to punch it right off him.

"Okay, you two bad boys, behave yourselves," she crooned, sitting on the arm of the chair. My nails dug into my jeans. Thankfully Dad was too engrossed by the relationship to notice this sight was bothering me. "And you, Sherl, you're going to have to tell me where you were last night."

"Working," he said simply.

"'Working.' Of course. I'm the only one who really knows what you're like, remember?"

You don't know he's a bastard, Janine. But he won't show you that side of him. He will when he stomps on your heart.

"Don't you go letting on." My jaw locked as he ran a finger down the tip of her nose.

"I might just, actually." Janine looked at Dad and me. "I haven't told Mary about this. I kind of wanted to surprise her."

"You probably will," Dad said.

"But we should have you two over for dinner really soon! You too, Rachel, and your boyfriend when you can! My place, though—not the scuzz-dump!"

"Great, yeah! Dinner." How could Dad be so onboard with this?

At that moment, I wanted to drop the bomb on everyone's heads. I wanted to ruin Sherlock, make my dad turn on him. For some reason, I couldn't find it in my heart to do it.

Janine sprung up. "Oh, I'd better dash. It was brilliant to see you!"

"You too."

Sherlock escorted Janine to the living room door. Politely, he opened it for her. I scoffed under my breath. He'd never done that for me when he'd fake-dated me.

"Have a lovely day," he cooed. "Call me later."

She fiddled with his jacket. "I might do that. I might call you—unless I meet someone prettier."

I looked at anything else in the apartment other than the kissing couple. Dad was, again, more astonished by this whereas I was outraged, wishing Janine would leave already. I felt tortured inside. Though I wasn't watching, hearing them kiss was enough to make bile rise in my throat. The mental image made me cringe.

"Solve me a crime, Sherlock Holmes," Janine whispered.

I finally looked once Janine left. Whatever smile Sherlock had on his face was now long gone as he shut the door. He switched modes pretty quickly.

"You know Magnussen as a newspaper owner, but he's so much more than that. He uses his power and wealth to gain information. The more he acquires, the greater his wealth and power." He went to the table, opening up his laptop. I got off the couch, focusing on this Magnussen business I was hearing about now that I wasn't supposed to ask about before.

"I'm not exaggerating when I say that he knows the critical pressure point on every person of note or influence in the whole of the Western world and probably beyond," Sherlock said critically. "He is the Napoleon of blackmail, and he has created an unassailable architecture of forbidden knowledge. Its name is Appledore." Sherlock spun the laptop around so Dad and I could see the building.

I wasn't going to lie; Magnussen's place looked pretty damn expensive and beautiful.

"Dinner," came out of my dad's mouth.

"Sorry, what, dinner?"

"Me and Mary, coming for dinner...with...wine and...sitting."

Sherlock and I stared at my dad.

"Seriously?" I snapped, annoyed that Dad was still lingering on that topic.

"I've just told you that the Western world is run from this house and you want to talk about dinner?" Sherlock asked.

"Fine, talk about the house," Dad caved.

Sherlock focused on his laptop. "It is the greatest repository of sensitive and dangerous information anywhere in the world—the Alexandrian Library of secrets and scandals—and none of it is on a computer. He's smart—computers can be hacked. It's all on hard copy in vaults underneath that house, and as long as it is, the personal freedom of anyone you've ever met is a fantasy."

Okay, Magnussen could definitely give Moriarty a run for his money. He was no killer, but blackmail was just as dangerous.

A familiar "Ooh-ooh!" alerted us to Mrs. Hudson, who opened the door.

"Oh, Rachel, visiting again, are we?" she asked, beaming at the sight of me.

"For a few days, yeah," I said. "It's good to see you. What's up?"

"Oh, that was the doorbell. Couldn't you hear it?" she asked.

"What doorbell?"

"It's in the fridge," Sherlock explained. "It kept ringing." I shot him a befuddled look.

"Oh, that's not a fault, Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson cried.

"Who is it?" Dad asked.

The hesitation from Mrs. Hudson was scary. The name she gave us made me wish I hadn't come back to Baker Street.

Charles Augustus Magnussen had come to 221B Baker Street.

"Rachel, go hide," Dad said lowly.

"She's not a child, John," Sherlock retorted. "Although I do agree with you, she shouldn't be here."

"I'm not hiding. He's not out to kill me," I said with a surprisingly strong tone.

"Fine, then come here and stay close," Dad ordered. "Don't say a word, either." I obliged, standing between him and Sherlock in front of the fireplace. My pulse thundered in my ears.

Three men came into the apartment. They had to be security for Magnussen.

"Oh, go ahead," Sherlock mocked them tiredly, spreading his arms out.

I shied away a little bit as one of the guards made sure Sherlock was weapon free. Another guard stared at me with an expectant eyebrow.

"I'm not armed," I said with a little too much sass. I heard Dad sigh quietly beside me. A third guard was in front of him.

"Sir?" he said.

"Can I have a moment?" Dad asked.

"Oh, he's fine," Sherlock piped.

The guard bent down, starting to feel my dad.

"Er, I...right. I should probably tell you..." I swallowed, as Dad had forgotten to get rid of Wiggy's knife. "Okay, I...That." I bit my lip, seeing the guard saw the tire iron. "Doesn't mean I'm not pleased to see you."

"Seriously, not a good time for humor," I hissed out of the corner of my mouth.

"I can vouch for this man," Sherlock announced. "He's a doctor. If you know who I am, then you know who he is...don't you, Mr. Magnussen?"

I tried to keep my breathing calm and collected as I saw Charles Magnussen appear in the doorway.